


I, Henry Jekyll

by GhostlyPrinceZero



Series: I, Henry Jekyll [1]
Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn, Original Work, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Jekyll and Hyde, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:25:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyPrinceZero/pseuds/GhostlyPrinceZero
Summary: Dr. Jekyll is a man who would stop at nothing to create a cure for the illness that not only plagues his father, but all mankind. He plans to separate the human mind, so that illness and evil action can be eliminated from humankind forever. What happens, though, when "dysfunctional" isn't inherently evil? In this adaptation of the tale of two men in one body, characters from the original novella as well as the musical are given new life and are explored in depth, and make one wonder if what one is told to be evil or good really is?





	1. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry and John attend Emma Carew's 24th birthday party, but rather than enjoying himself, the doctor finds his mind wandering elsewhere.

The dark London sky stretched infinitely onwards overhead. Clouds covered the stars and moon, shutting out all God-made light, and instead allowed the man-made brightness of the manor house to light up the sky, if not only for a night. Inside, the festivities of a hundred light voices filled the crowded rooms and halls, accompanied only by the music of glasses hitting against one another in jovial commemoration. That night was the eve of Miss Emma Carew’s birthday, and both close friend and stranger attended to celebrate.

The main room was adorned with lights and glamour, shining magnificently with the brightness of a thousand stars and refracted through the shimmering chandelier that hung proudly above the center. The many faces that congregated beneath its radiance were dressed only in their finest, crafting an ornate beauty about the room that could be observed by any of the hall’s many inhabitants. Such was the case with any of the Carew family parties, which were quite the event to be invited to; to be invited was to be of high class.

Feeling nearly out of place at the hostess’ table sat Dr. Henry Jekyll, a well known and admired doctor, beside him, Mr. John Utterson, who was a lawyer. The both of them were childhood friends to Miss Carew, as had their parents been friends with one another. They had been brought up together and often visited each other’s properties. This was especially true over the summers of their youths, when the trio, then joined by another young boy would get into whatever mischief they could without causing too much trouble for their parents who expected nothing from them but the kind, well-behaved nature they displayed at most given moments. Presently 25, with the exception of Emma, who was turning 24 that very evening, they hardly got into mischief anymore, yet bonded together nonetheless, still considering each other close friends.

Also sitting at the table was Miss Carew’s father, Sir Danvers Carew, who was known for being a polite and generous man, and also for his position as Chairman to the Board of Governors of St. Jude’s hospital. Dr. Jekyll specifically knew the man to be an avid supporter of scientific research, but also more personally as a father-figure during more recent years.

Even with the commotion of his present situation, the mind of Dr. Jekyll had long since drifted to thoughts of his work, a formula capable of separating and removing evil from mankind, and the product of years worth of work.  It had not been his intention to disregard their words, or the reason for his presence in the hall, however, it was a negative side effect of his passion for his work. The conversations between those at the table faded into the general volume of the hall, and neither proved to be anything more than background noise to his determined mind.

“So, Henry,” Sir Danvers began, subtly taking a sip from his glass. “What have you been up to lately? I’ve received news that you have a very interesting project in the works.”

“Hm?” The sudden inclusion of him in the conversation caused Henry to flinch, as it forced his wandering mind back to reality.

“Oh, Father…” Miss Carew sighed, touching her father’s arm. “Don’t bother poor Henry with talk of his work. This is likely the only break he’s gotten from it in weeks. Please do let him enjoy it.”

Mr. Utterson smirked. “Oh, don’t worry yourself over it, Miss Carew. I’m sure that the doctor has had his mind on that formula whilst here of his own volition.”

“John, please.” Dr. Jekyll cleared his throat, lifting his eyes from the table, and shooting a disapproving glance over to his dear friend. “I’m working on something that I’m sure you will take interest in, Sir Danvers. It is no bother for me to talk about it. I am very much looking forward to presenting it to you later this week.”

Sir Danvers smiled softly, his expression giving way to soft laughter. “My boy, God certainly is testing my ability to be patient! You know, every one of your discoveries has proven genius thus far. You’re quite the sharp young man-just like your father.” Dr. Jekyll’s face warmed with the compliment, and a smile formed across his lips.

“But, before all that happens with your work, Henry, we really should all have a bit of a get-together! Lord knows that you won’t have much time at all after that pitch of yours… at least let us all say goodbye to you before you leave us forever.” She laughed, half serious, as she pulled a strand of her curly hair back behind her ear.  “Is tomorrow alright?”

Dr. Jekyll swallowed hard. Tomorrow was the only day that it would even be possible to meet up with anyone- before the proposition, that was. In accordance with most days in the good doctor’s life, work filled his schedule, however, this day would be particularly stressful. An annual inspection of his dwellings was scheduled- an unfortunate coincidence that would eliminate the wishes of a girl on her birthday.  Dr. Jekyll attempted forming words in a delicate way. “Erm, actually…”

“Happy Birthday to you, my dear!” A larger man appeared from the crowd, diverting the table’s attention to himself. “What a lovely party you have arranged, Miss Emma. Wonderful indeed!” He exclaimed. “Thank you, Percy.” She rose from her chair and hugged him. “Thank you so much for coming!” Percival looked between the young woman and her father. “How could I not? Oh, you’ve grown so much since when I last saw you!”

Sir Danvers smiled, seemingly happy to see the family friend. “Ah, Percy! Where have you been? I had a hell of a time trying to get your address!”  The two men laughed. “I had gone to Gloucester for a bit of business, but ah, that’s no fuss now!” Percival explained swiftly. Turning to Dr. Jekyll, his face lit up. “Who do we have here? John and Henry!”

Dr. Jekyll swiftly turned his head to Mr. Utterson for silent assurance that he indeed did know this man. John nodded his head, and within a second, the two met eyes with the joyous man, him never to have known their confusion. “Why, you two haven’t changed at all.”

Percy Kensington straightened his jacket before shifting position to place a hand on Dr. Jekyll’s shoulder. “How’s your father? I haven’t heard from him in years! What has he been up to all this time?” He fired the questions quickly, not nearly understanding how sensitive the answers would be.

Dr. Jekyll’s heart sank. He had come to the realization that this man must have been a friend of his father’s. His father, Silas, was another distinguished doctor. He had worked many a year helping those who could not help themselves prior and his discoveries in the field of the human mind were crucial to providing the patients of St. Jude’s better lives. As a young boy, Henry Jekyll was so very inspired by his father and his optimistic view of life that he shaped the very essence of his soul in his father’s image.

Recently, however, the man once so brilliant and sharp had been hidden away from the world. Silas Jekyll had become entrapped in the true darkness of the human mind in its illness, spiraling downward since the death of his wife, Henry’s mother, Rosemary.  The man had become a dormant, empty form, with hardly a twinkle of life in his eyes. It was as though the man was lost. The image frightened Dr. Jekyll, and he sighed.

A collective hush had fallen upon the more knowledgeable at the table. Mr. Utterson placed a firm, supportive hand on Jekyll’s back.  “He’s,” a pause, as Dr. Jekyll brings the glass to his lips. “He’s admittedly been a bit more reclusive as of late, but I assure you…” He set the glass back down, determination in his eyes. “...Soon, he _will_ be alright. I will tell him you asked about him.”

 

“Very good! It was a pleasure seeing you both.”

“Yes, you too, sir.”

 

Dr. Jekyll stared off. To him, the buzz of the room had descended into a blur as his eyes lost focus. He found himself there, but not quite present. His mind was tainted with thoughts of reminded jealousy. He would never wish the ailment that his father had on any other person, however, there were times he had wished that it had not been Silas, but some other person, far away. He envied the other children in his youth that had the privilege of screaming for their mothers, and now he envied the young woman at the table who had her father by her side. It was irrational, he thought, so he’d never speak it aloud, especially not tonight, so he tried to force the pain in his chest further in so that no one would notice.

The whole party, no one mentioned him seeming upset. Miss Carew was smiling, and laughing, the conversation continued per usual with frequent sayings of “Oh, that’s delicious!” and “What a lovely party!” echoed. The only thing even slightly unusual to Dr. Jekyll was a table near to his. The 6 members of the table were dressed only in their finest, all of whom seeming only vaguely familiar from the distance the doctor had to view them. This was not inherently strange, but rather the fact that they seemed to be watching the doctor, talking about something until the huddled group, looking over, noticed that Dr. Jekyll had spotted them, quickly parted as if they were not talking in private. The encounter had made him uneasy, though he did not need worry long, as the party was drawing to a close, and people had begun to move and leave.

“Oh, they’re leaving… Is it really that late?” Miss Carew rose from her seat. “Ah, well, gentlemen! I need to go say goodbye to the others, and I shan't force you both to stay here and wait for me.” She walked around the table and hugged her two friends both tightly. “Good night, thank you so so much for coming!! I had a lovely time talking with you all. It’s been so long…” Her voice lowered as she continued. Holding both of their hands, she spoke again. “Please.” She paused to look them in the eyes. “Promise that we all can get together again soon. And, bring Lanyon, too!”

The two men only slightly reeled back at the last portion, but nodded all the same, perhaps making promises that they knew they could neither keep nor deny.

Mr. Utterson guided Dr. Jekyll out of the manor. “Let us walk home together.” He suggested. “I’d like to speak with you. I noticed you were… upset.”

Dr. Jekyll’s face changed a bit. “I shall walk home with you, but really, I must make certain you know that I was not upset. It was a lovely party.” Mr. Utterson, unconvinced, turned his head to look the man in the eyes. “I’ve known you far too long to let you lie to me this way, Henry.”

Dr. Jekyll inhaled the thick night air and held it in his chest for a while before exhaling. “Yes, you are correct. I was a bit… reminded of my father’s condition, if I may be honest. It was not as though I would ever forget-- no. But… I wished that the topic of conversation had remained off of… him.”

“I understand,” John replied. “There are things that I wouldn’t want being brought up at the table either.”

“What I have gone through is nowhere as severe as-” Henry started, but was hushed.

“ _Don’t_ say that.”

“Of course.” Dr. Jekyll cleared his throat.

“I think-” Mr. Utterson looked up at the moon, just hardly visible through an opening in the clouds. “-that tomorrow evening I should visit you. That way you would be forced to stop working.” Dr. Jekyll laughed. “I’d be happy to have you, John. Though, it’s all the more reason for us to pick up our pace. All that work will need to be made up sometime.”

“Hm. I suppose I can’t stop you.” Walking just a bit faster, Mr. Utterson brought Dr. Jekyll to his door before it was tragically late. The two shook hands, and after a moment of silence, Dr. Jekyll embraced his dear friend.

“Thank you.” he whispered. Mr. Utterson smiled warmly, returning the embrace. “Of course, Henry.” As the two parted, and Mr. Utterson began his walk, Dr. Jekyll called out to him one last time that evening.

“Good night, John!”

“Good night to you as well. I _do hope_ you actually _sleep_ tonight!”

 

Unfortunately, to bind himself to those words would be to lie to a friend, so he didn’t, and instead crept up the stairs and disappeared into his home.


	2. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll arrives home from the party, and decides that he must talk to his father.

“Has he been alright?” Dr. Jekyll inquired. 

“Your father, sir? Yes, Yes, he’s been alright…” Poole, Silas Jekyll’s caregiver, said, nodding as he spoke. “Might I take your coat from you?” “Ah… I can do it. Thank you- very much, though.” 

Dr. Jekyll removed his coat and placed it neatly on the hook before turning, and making sure the door was locked. “Did you talk to him much? Er, did he say much of anything?” he asked. Poole’s expression darkened a bit. “Not much at all, sir. However, he did inquire about you.” Henry’s face warmed just a bit with a smile. “He always does, doesn’t he?” “Yes, sir. He loves you very much.”

Dr. Jekyll’s eyes scanned the room a bit. The fireplace was lit, the room was warm with the yellow light. He paced towards it and looked down into the flames absentmindedly enjoying the beauty. 

“He should still be awake, sir, if you wanted to see him tonight. He refused to sleep until he saw you.” Dr. Jekyll turned back around to face Poole, eyes widened in surprise. “Oh..! Then, of course, I should see him immediately. Thank you, Poole.” The other man nodded, and Jekyll was on his way down the darkened hall.

The hall light was out, likely as to give his father a chance to sleep if he decided that he should want to do so. Dr. Jekyll’s eyes, however, weren’t accustomed to such darkness, and he fumbled for a moment before reaching the doorway. He knocked on the open door.

“Father..?” Henry softly called. “I’ve come home... Are you awake?” Henry put the light on, and the light revealed Silas Jekyll awake, and extremely happy. “Hm…” Silas hummed, rubbing his eyes. His glasses were on the nightstand next to his bed, and he couldn’t quite see, but Henry’s father knew his son’s voice from anywhere. “Henry..” He put his arm outwards in the direction of the voice. Dr. Jekyll swiftly went to his father’s side and sat in the chair there. 

“Here, here…” Dr. Jekyll took the glasses into his hands and cleaned the lenses before putting them on his father. 

Silas Jekyll was not old. His body had hardly the time to age at all before the illness came over him. His long hair reminded one of Autumn just before the snowfall. Just like Henry’s, his hair was still, even at this age, auburn, however, his was just a bit more dull, a bit wiser seeming, and just beginning to gray. He was a tragedy, hardly old enough to leave just yet. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that Dr. Jekyll felt he needed to save him so deeply. 

“Henry…” his father repeated again, cupping his son’s face with his frail hand. “Yes, father… I’m right here.” Henry smiled. “Hm… well, I saw your old friend today, at the party. Percival?”

“...”

“Yes, I do believe it was a man named Percival. He hadn’t been around lately, he went to  Gloucester on business, I think. To be honest, I must have been far too young to remember him, last I saw him… I certainly didn’t recognize him at first!” Dr. Jekyll laughed a bit.

“...”

“He asked about you. I told him…” He held his father’s hand just a bit tighter. “I told him that you were a bit ill right now, but that you’d be better soon. I think… That is what you would want me to say, hm?” 

“Henry…”

Dr. Jekyll sighed. He missed conversations with his father, the times when he could hear his voice speak clear without pain in every utterance. He missed the laughs they shared, the stories they told. He missed the man before him.

“Do…” Henry cleared his throat to stop his voice from trembling. “Do you remember, I told you… I have a very important appointment coming up soon. The proposition, do you remember?”

“...”

“I’ll be presenting my cure to the Board of Governors of St. Jude’s in two days. Weren’t they all your friends, once? I think, you told me they were, once…” Dr. Jekyll forced a smile. Any change in tone would greatly upset his father- he was fragile. “I’m not worried.” He laughed, falsely. “Once they approve of it... And I am able to test it on a human being, I’m sure that the world will be better. You’ll be better.”

“...”

“Oh, and, one last thing. Tomorrow, we have visitors. They’re simply here to do their annual inspection of the house and such. I promise I will try to keep it as quiet as possible for you.”

“Mhh..”

After another moment of deep, unbearable silence, Henry stood. “Of course…” He started to pace about the room, as he brought his hand to his chin in thought. “It _ is  _ getting late, isn’t it? You should be to rest. Do you need anything?”

“...No.”

“Oh, well.” Henry returned to his father, removing the man’s glasses, folding them, and setting them down where they rested previously. Gently, he pressed a kiss to his father’s forehead. “Goodnight, Father.” He put the light out.

Dr. Jekyll made his way from the bed to the doorway. Just as he was about to shut the door behind him, he heard a soft voice calling to him. 

“I’m proud of you, Henry.” Silas whispered in a hoarse, rarely used voice. Henry felt his eyes become heavy with tears, so he didn’t look back, in irrational fear that the moonlight might reveal him. “Thank you…rest well. I love you very much.” He closed the door and held his head in his hands.

It was as though a ghost had passed through him, a ghost that chilled him to the core with memories of a child. The child was so small, so curious. He sat by his father’s side as he worked, watching with all the attention his young mind could give. The child would run to the back garden, grabbing the sleeve of his father, and the dress of his mother to bring them along, to watch him catch a grasshopper in his hands. He would ask questions daily. He grew up, and still asked questions- God, he never stopped asking questions. It was so long ago, hearing those words, “I’m proud of you,” every day was like a ritual.

Now, the boy was grown. He seldom heard anything at all, anymore.  _ What a gift,  _ Henry thought, that he should hear such a thing.  _ What a gift. _

When he regained his composure and wiped his reddened eyes, he made his way back through the hallway. Poole stood in the main room, waiting. 

“Is everything alright, sir?” Poole asked, a look of concern coming over him as he seemingly realized the dampened face of the other man. “ _Yes_ , yes. _Of course._ _More_ than fine.” He nodded, one last tremble heard in his voice. He sniffled, and after a while, spoke again, _yes_ , in case the other hadn’t believed him previous.

Jekyll inhaled deeply. “I shall be off to bed, Poole. And, you should be, as well. I will not be needing anything throughout the night.” Poole nodded and set down the picture he was dusting off. 

“Goodnight, then, sir. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight to you, as well.”

 

As the final light was put out downstairs, Dr. Jekyll ventured up the stairs. He walked through the hallway, past his bedroom door, and hesitated for a moment. Sleep. His body craved that thing, sleep. But, his mind was alive with bold determination.

 

“I  _ shall _ make you proud.” He whispered, loud enough for only himself to hear just faintly, and he opened the door to his lab.


	3. His Labor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll reviews his script for the proposition after a night of nonstop work.

The lab was borrowed- secondhand. It had all belonged to his father once, only a few years ago. The room would be much larger looking, had it been empty, but the room was filled with cabinets and bookshelves, which themselves were filled with glass, and books, only half of which Henry could have read if he had spent his entire life reading. The sky had cleared some; light from the near-full moon outside the window reflected off the glass casing.

It was now one or two in the morning. The room was candlelit, and the darkness tugged down Henry’s eyelids with every blink he attempted. He had faded from consciousness once or twice in the endeavor to finish his revisions to the script but awoke from the fickle state with a start. A worry that was repressed far enough it mingled itself with his soul would not be so easily mitigated by sleep.

He cleared himself a spot on his messy working table and placed down his finished script for the proposition. It was a torn old piece of paper, ink blotches coating the right side, and half of the writing was scribbled out. It made perfect sense to Henry, though, as did most things that he said. It was as though his mind was in another language for only a select few others to understand, and a language he hoped the Board of Governors would find themselves fluent in, come the presentation.

Heavy eyes dragging his view along, he, head in his arms, attempted to read over the parchment a last time, growing more and more disgusted and discontented with the words as every time they passed.

 

“Distinguished Governors,

The issue before our doctors and caretakers in the modern era is no longer the keeping away of helpless people, but the reformation. Why should it be that man must be kept away from his loved ones- from his own mind for the rest of his days? The mind has become a prison for these innocent souls, where their lack of full awareness chains them to a life unwillingly lived. Governors, friends of science… I have created a solution.

As you all must know, there are two life-states in every human person, being the conscious, the aware, decision-making center that learns and remembers information, and the subconscious portion that is not in and of itself fully aware, but that influences the aware self. I see the subconscious, being a great portion of all brain function, as a vast vessel of unheard of potential. The proposed remedy is a prescription that will take a fraction of the brain function allotted to the subconscious-self to revitalize function in the conscious self. 

Not only could such treatment result in the replenishment of function in those in asylums, but even ourselves outside of it. The elderly, succumbing to forgetfulness, drowsiness and the like, could too benefit from the production. Even the fully functional ego stands to change in a fantastic manner. 

With more than half of the brain adopting a policy of rest- to wake it would foster immediate and significant increases in sharpness, adaptability and problem-solving. As less room is made for irrationality and the rational self expanded, strifes over minimal issues would be eliminated entirely. Anger would become rare- negative emotions more readily dispersed. It is in this way that my formula could bring about certain prosperity to the human race.

I need not ask for money, or for a laboratory to create a formula. I already have come to obtain these items. My request of you all tonight involves permission to test my chemical formula, comprised of rare and effective herbs and elixirs, on a living patient. My prior experiments on the matter have proven success, and I have great confidence in success…”

...

Henry finally succumbed to rest and slept.

 

When morning came, which was not much time having passed, Dr. Jekyll slowly picked himself up from his desk and ran his fingers through his hair. Drowsily, he squinted at the bright sun beaming through the window, which seemed to target itself at his weary eyes. It was not as early as he had normally remanded himself to wake; from the look in the sky, it was later. He straightened his back, and it emitted a loud, painful crack. He held it, in pain, and rubbed it. 

As he stood, the doctor grew pale with anxiety- lightheadedness came over him. He stammered towards the nearest clock, which was outside of the lab, in the hallway. Pressing his palms against the wall to hold himself, he noted the clock read 9:00. The inspection would begin in 2 hours’ time. 

He needed to prepare.


	4. The Inspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry Jekyll's home is inspected to ensure that Silas is safe in his care.

The job of inspector was not always Lady Beaconsfield’s. Similar to her husband, her acquired position was taken. Henry Jekyll was a young boy when it had happened, not old enough to understand at the time, but old enough to remember. He remembered Virgil Beaconsfield as a family friend- as someone his father saw at work often. He was a distinct looking man that one couldn’t forget easily. He was white in color, his hair, his skin- as he had been since his birth.

The Beaconsfields had a loving relationship; every glance that was shared between them was warm, dear, and faithful. They had grown entirely dependent on one another in the immeasurable time they spent together at work and at home, caring for their two children. In the beginning days of his absence, there was hope of return, or recovery. As 20 years came and went, though, nothing of him remained, not a body, not a note, or trace, except perhaps, for the position as the voice of legal reason he left open. Elizabeth Beaconsfield silently implanted herself into his chair, and into his role in the Board of Governors, eyes dark, and heart heavy.

On the day of her annual visit, a tremor of loss would pass over Silas as he seemed to know the only reason why she was there in place of him. His mind hadn’t the power to recall most neutral memories, thus remained polarizing, toilsome moments. It had withered him to be a sensitive man. Henry Jekyll would stand firm at his father’s side as he always had, and indeed it did calm him to remember his son had not slipped away, or been stolen by some action of evil. 

Silas turned his face to the ceiling light that hung over the room. His somber eyes seemed to absorb the yellow light, and his mouth turned up some. He inhaled audibly- a strong breath, as someone knocked on the door. 

Dr. Jekyll was beckoned to the sound of it, and broke the barrier with an inviting smile. Expecting to see who he had seen all the years of his father’s illness, he found himself bewildered to see Archie Avington-Beaconsfield, the youngest member of the Board assisted by secretary Simon Stride, who held a clipboard to his chest, pen in hand. Hiding the confusion on his face, Jekyll breathed in his confidence and began. 

“Ah, Sir Avington. I hadn’t expected to be seeing you for the inspection! But, I’m happy to have you.” He chose not to acknowledge Simon Stride with anything more than a look. “Is Lady Beaconsfield alright?”

Sir Avington smirked proudly. “Quite alright, Jekyll!” The man held his hands to his hips. “I’ve finally come to take the work from my mother. ‘Spent an awful long time learning the ‘tools of the trade-’ too long not to put it all to good use and save a fair woman her mind to be free of it.”

“It’s good to hear it, Sir. Please,” Dr. Jekyll cleared the doorway. “Come in.”

Sir Avington brought a certain energy to any room to which he entered. He often adorned himself with less than conventional colors; he dreaded the gloomy beige-taupe-black-grey world in which he seemed to live. It is not as though he had been noted as a fool for doing so, either, as he very much so had the confidence to make the skeptics look with jealousy. Yes, he was a petulant boy of a young man, but he was adored for his charm and wit. 

“Simon, why don’t you start the preliminaries?” As tame as a lap dog, Simon obeyed obediently, immediately prancing about the room meticulously examining as soon as the both of them had passed the threshold. “You’re already acquainted with Simon, aren’t you, Henry?”

“Yes, Simon and I have known each other since we were merely schoolboys, actually.” Dr. Jekyll cleared his throat with some force. “Would you like anything to eat, or drink, Sir Avington?”

“Oh, no, I’ve just come from breakfast, and I’d like to preserve my figure!” The two shared a laugh. “Thank you though, Henry. Your generosity is very much noted- and, we’re the same age, you know. I should like to think you’d refer to me as ‘Archie.’ Our families are friends, are they not? So treat me as though I am one!” 

“If being called such is what you prefer, who am I to deny you of it?” Dr. Jekyll, from that point, had decided that he would prefer not to refer to him at all by name or title. Some part of him that remained more proper than the rest, felt most strongly that even though Sir Avington had requested to speak informally with him, that he would be offended by the fulfilment of such a request. Henry was more comfortable with his presence than Lady Beaconsfield’s, however, not nearly to the extent asked of him.

At this time, Simon Stride had halted his work on the left side of the main room, and moved swiftly towards the right. As Dr. Jekyll noticed this, he made a quick pace to his father’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Nervous, are we, Henry?” Stride remarked. 

“Not at all, Mr. Stride. Simply aware that my father is sensitive to people he may not recognize being in close proximity to him.” Dr. Jekyll retorted. Silas stared only at Stride with wide, just awoken eyes, affirming Henry’s word as every second inched by. Sir Avington seemed to glare at his assistant. 

“Make haste there, Simon. I’ll not have you frightening Henry’s father like this.” He admonished. “And, quietly this time.” 

Simon Stride reddened. With his tail between his legs, he followed orders, and soon was on his way to the house’s second level to check on the other rooms. Dr. Jekyll was a bit confused, but certainly not angered to find that Simon would have the most work out of any person in that house. They did not work well together- not as friends nor as workers. There had been attempts made by Dr. Jekyll, but something in Stride’s nature propelled him into behaving cruelly in return for nearly every kind action put forth to him. He jeered, and taunted, and if Henry were to remain honest, viewing him interact with such a dominating personality was rewarding. 

Sir Avington’s gaze remained fixated towards Henry’s father, though. He seemed to want to speak some terribly complex thought in his mind. 

“Is something the matter?” Dr. Jekyll asked.   
“May I introduce myself to your father? Is that alright for me to do?” Sir Avington’s demeanor softened almost completely as he turned his head to face Henry. “I don’t wish to upset him, you understand.”

With a calm smile, relieved of the worry that perhaps he had done some wrong, he stood by Sir Avington’s side, and guided him towards his father, who just slightly reacted to his presence. 

“Father,” Henry took his father’s hand. “This is Sir Archie Avington-Beaconsfield. Do you remember, Bessie’s adopted son?”

…

Sir Avington seemed to laugh. “You aren’t much of a talker, are you? I understand completely.” He gave a bit of a showy bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jekyll. I do hope that my assistant hasn’t bothered you any!”

...  
Silas laughed. It was a drowsy laugh, heavy, and unlike how he had done in his health, but he certainly laughed. He beamed, he smiled- muttering nonsense to himself, purely happy. It was a delicate moment until Simon Stride called from upstairs. Then, it was quiet, and Silas became concerned.

“If you wouldn’t mind…” Dr. Jekyll helped his father, who was willing to rise now. “I’d like to bring him to bed- he isn’t in the main room much- on his own accord, of course- and if you’d pardon me saying such a thing, I fear Mr. Stride is not taking that into account.”

“Go right ahead, Henry. I agree entirely!” Swiftly, Sir Avington turned his back and marched up the stairs in pursuit of Stride in an anger he hadn’t had before. Though Henry could not make out the words spoken, he confidently understood the tone, and quickly removed his father from the main room to put him into the care of Poole. 

Dr. Jekyll then proceeded to approach, climbing the stairs slowly in a cautious manner, hoping to overhear the causation of the argument, or at least, the present subject. He heard one word. “Laboratory.” He ascended the stairs swiftly.

“I can’t see it being very safe, that nearly over the poor man’s head, Jekyll is performing some kind of chemical experiments here. You understand, don’t you, Archie? What if one of them were to release a fume or such that carried on through the house?” Simon Stride spoke, chin up, and arms crossed. Neither seemed to notice Henry’s presence.

“Simon, tell me, don’t you think that if the placement of his scientific equipment on the property was of issue, it would have been brought up by my mother on any of the 9 inspections she conducted? I’ve never seen you behave-” Some sixth sense came over him quickly and he spun round to meet eyes with Jekyll. “Your father is not, in any way, affected by your use of this laboratory, correct?”

Jekyll nodded, almost truthfully. “Not in any way at all. We’ve made sure he stays in the bedroom furthest away from it, such that, even should I be awake at work at odd hours of the night and something falls, it could not wake him. He hears nothing, sees nothing of that room.”

“See, Simon? No threat at all. Is that all that you had to say about the matter?” 

“...No.” Stride’s eyes came to follow Dr. Jekyll. “Someone with Dr. Jekyll’s work schedule mustn’t have the time to care for others.”

Some hurt was experienced by Henry Jekyll in that moment. He bit his lip, and closed his eyes hard. 

“Respectfully, Mr. Stride, I have to disagree with you. My work day consists of many things, and I would be an ungrateful fool to dismiss my father as not being one of them. During my day, I care for him in my waking hours- and if I must attend a meeting, or leave my dwellings, Poole will take my place. Once he is to sleep, then I partake in my personal studies. I apologize for giving any impression that I was uncaring to him.”

Tapping his foot to the floor incessantly, Sir Avington once again had his hands to his hips. “We’re done here, Simon. You’ve passed, Henry, of course you have. Simon must not be feeling well…” 

“No, no. He had valid objections.” Dr. Jekyll smiled. “It was only fair of him to ask- only thorough.” 

Mr. Stride’s eyes widened a bit, a blush tinting his cheeks, but as quickly as it had appeared, it had left him, and he seemed more flustered than grateful.

“I’m glad you see it that way, Henry. Otherwise, I’d be embarrassed!” Sir Avington chuckled, holding Henry’s hands. “We’ll leave you to your work, then.”

“I’ll walk you both out.”

As they descended the stairs, Sir Avington gasped. 

“I’ve just remembered, Henry! Your proposition tomorrow, the ‘elders’ are all very much so looking forward to it! You know… just as a little tip from me. I think we all want a little something to look at, to remember. Goodbye, now!” And just as soon as the words left his lips, he was gone, and Simon trailed behind. Henry Jekyll closed the door, and smiled. He took a step onto the first stair of his staircase.

From the other room, a soft whisper carried too quiet to hear.

“I know, sir.” A soft voice attempted to comfort. “He’ll be to work, but I’m sure he’ll come down again for lunch. I’ll read to you, if you’d like, until then.”


	5. The Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Jekyll has an unexpected visitor late into the night. What occurs leaves him wondering if he wishes he had slept through it or not.

Late into the evening, Henry Jekyll sat in his bedroom. He was half-changed into his nightclothes, hair messily strewn about his face- now fallen free from the tight bun it was often wound into. He opened the small window that was placed above his bed and let in the breeze. He shivered, for a moment, but it was nice as it passed over him.  
It was nights like these that often filled him with a strange urge to remember things of the past, like school notes, old friends- dusty memories like such. They beckoned to be set free. A troubled mind like his would yearn for some freedom from work and routine, of the old days when a young boy stood half of his height and simple things seemed large. He lamented them, now- the green fields and the blue skies of boyhood adventure. As he motioned to remove his glasses, he heard it. 

It was far too late for a visitor, but he heard it. It was a light knocking upon his door- one he would not have heard through the entire house had it not been for the dead silence of sleep that had long since come over the home. It was clear- and as it sounded again, it assured Jekyll that his mind had not fabricated it as a means to frighten him. It was real. 

Making himself presentable, at least in part, Dr. Jekyll descended the stairs and into the main room, where he opened a light. He then moved towards the door, and opened it, shutting his eyes hard at the cold night air. 

Before him stood Mr. Utterson. He was dressed in a heavy black coat and seemed, as ever, ethereal- untouched by the toils of the world. He had no tired look in his eyes. He was normal, gentle- and ever concerned with the welfare of Henry Jekyll, despite how high the moon had climbed into the night sky.

“Henry, I had hoped that you would have fallen asleep by now.” Mr. Utterson sighed, head turned downward in a disappointed fashion. “But, I fully expected you not to be, if I may be truthful with you.”

There was a twinge of guilt that resided with Henry as he took Mr. Utterson’s hands. “Don’t look at me in that way, John…” Henry near whispered. His eyes pleaded, his lip quivered. “I was- at least, I was trying to sleep at a normal hour.”

It had been like this since Henry was in school. Even though the two had very different fields of study, Mr. Utterson would find himself, more often than not, watching over Dr. Jekyll’s shoulder. It had not been an interest so much in the subject but of interest in Dr. Jekyll. 

Mr. Utterson observed more closely than any other, Dr. Jekyll’s undying- at times unhealthy- passion to his work and wished for nothing more than for him to have what he so desired, but not at the cost of his health or his mind.

“I see…” Mr. Utterson guided Dr. Jekyll back into his own home gently, with a soft smile resting on his face. “Is that why you are only half-changed at half-past one o’clock in the morning, Henry?”

Dr. Jekyll reddened. 

“I am not crossed with you, but you must understand that it isn’t healthy for you to forget yourself like this. I did tell you I was visiting you tonight, didn't I?” John’s fingers on his shoulder felt like summer- Henry ached. He couldn’t look the man in the eyes like this and his gaze remained on the floor. Especially since his work had led him to forget he agreed to the visit. 

“All of it will be for nothing if I do not succeed.”  
“And you won’t succeed without any time for rest, my dear Henry.”

Inexplicably, Henry’s eyes shone with quick-falling, heavy tears. It came over him with no forewarning and sent his pulse into a rapid cadence. He collapsed into Mr. Utterson’s embrace, the child he lamented being returned home to his mind. “Oh, John!” he cried.  
“I am so tired of it all!”

Mr. Utterson, of course, held him firmly, and Dr. Jekyll melted. Everything became warm; his face, the light, the tightness in his chest, the embrace all turned sunny. Tears raced from his eyes as he whispered short, sweet appeals into John’s ear. “Please. Please stay. Please. All of this is becoming too much for me and I-”

“Henry.” 

The sharpness caught Dr. Jekyll, who immediately reeled back and covered himself further, off guard. “Yes?”

“I need you to longer hide this proposition from me. It is keeping me from soothing you. Just what have you been hiding yourself away to work on all this time?”

Silence rang louder than thunder. The tension, the anxiety, it was all unavoidable now, and despite Mr. Utterson seemingly never having held a tone less than well-meaning in his life- certainly not towards Dr. Jekyll- it shook him deeply.

“John, sit, please.” Henry tied his hair back up and fixed his glasses as best as possible. He scrubbed at his face and swallowed hard. Mr. Utterson hesitantly obeyed the doctor and sat, folding his hands in his lap as the doctor paced. 

Mr. Utterson seemed to eye Dr. Jekyll more skeptically than he, in reality, did. Dr. Jekyll’s paranoia had caught hold over him and he swayed, unbalanced and quivering like a tree in the breeze. “What I intend to do…” He struggled to find his words in his lightheadedness. “...is to restore the subconscious to conscious by means of a chemical formula that could save thousands! I have created such a formula already, but it has remained untested on a human…!”

John bit his lip and he turned his gaze downward. 

“It’s a necessary part of the process, John, you understand, don’t you?”

“Yes,” The word was formed carefully. “But I do understand the difficulties that you will have convincing the board, now.”

Henry leaped on that phrase. “John, don’t speak that way about it- you act as though it is impossible!” He laughed, near hysterics. Mr. Utterson began to protest, but Dr. Jekyll continued. “Stay, let me read you the program! Then, there will be no doubt in your mind that it is the proper way to go about revolutionizing mental health!”

“I can’t, Henry.” John stood. “I’m afraid an old friend of mine is returning home to London from his travels and I must prepare my home so that he might stay with me. I must admit that I hadn’t intended to stay even as long as I already have- though, I am not regretful I have.”

The statement roused suspicion in Dr. Jekyll. Mr. Utterson was a man of close but few friends. He often found himself to be isolated from others because he was a man of himself. He was not a prude- but he certainly was prudent when warranted, which detached him from the rowdy or violent groups, his somber attitude with only underlying humor disconnected him from the outright joyous innocent youth, and his activism through his hard labor made him different from the ideal gentleman who lived his life inactive. His, and only his principles guided him, and while he was revered and generally well received, for most of his adult life he rejected closeness with many others. So, who might it be, that even Jekyll himself had not heard of sooner?

“Who is it, living with you, John? I pray you don’t take offense as I say this, but you don’t have many other friends than myself, correct?”

Mr. Utterson cleared his throat. “Yes, you are correct that I haven’t many friends, but it is not as though I’ve gone out and made a new one, Henry. I hadn’t wanted to share this with you yet as I knew it would upset you. It is Robert Lanyon.”

“Lanyon?” Dr. Jekyll asked, near in disbelief. “Lanyon?”

“Yes, Henry. He will be staying in my home’s spare bedroom until he can discern what new destination best suits his desire.” John spoke quickly, but in no way ashamed. 

“I understand. Well.” Dr. Jekyll breathed in. “You wouldn’t want to be late.” 

“Do not pretend you are not upset with me, Henry. Still, I bid you a good night. I love you.” Mr. Utterson approached the door. 

“Good night, John.” 

The door opened and closed with no return of the second phrase, and Henry was alone. The tightness in his chest loosened at last in such a state, but it loosened too much and felt empty. 

Lanyon, the one who needed too much, who felt too deeply, controlled too much, who loved and lost with still a smile on his face as he left through the door. They were too different, last they spoke, and it pained the doctor to remember, as he trudged back up the stairs, unsure of whether he wished John had never come or not.

Now again, alone on his bed, the doctor sat, fully changed into his nightclothes, set his glasses aside, and closed the window. Three children in his memories awoke as he closed his eyes. The lush green hill and bright, heavenly blue sky radiated peace in those gold framed memories. 

“We’ll be friends forever, us three, won’t we, Henry?”  
“Of course, Hastie! Forever, until we die!”  
“And after, you both.”

“And after.”


End file.
